


The Stars Are Bright (the universe is beautiful but cold)

by Omegarose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha Sam Winchester, Brotherly Bonding, F/M, M/M, Mother Hen Dean Winchester, Omega Dean Winchester, Omegaverse, Pack Dynamics, but you know, eventually, i'm honest to god doing this right now, might as well right now, pass it fucking on, probably going to end up not continuing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-10-19 07:53:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20653754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omegarose/pseuds/Omegarose
Summary: I'm writing anything that I think should be slightly more skewed in an omegaverse way in every episode as I rewatch spn because college I guess.





	1. Pilot

Dean has more memories of when he was little than most people do.

He’s also had more reason to cling to them than most people do.

He remembers his mom’s apple pies, and lasagna, and chicken-tomato soup. He remembers her hair looked pink in the sun, sometimes. He remembers falling asleep on her lap while she read. He remembers holding Sammy for the first time, and his mom whispering to him that he was going to have to look out for him, since he was so much littler than Dean.

Mostly he remembers the night that his mom died. 

Sam was pushed into his arms, and he ran down the stairs as careful as he could ‘cause Sammy was so _ little _ and he nearly fell into the wall but caught himself with his shoulder before going outside. His socks got wet from the dew on the grass. The flames had already eaten through the window and up into the roof, and a few people across the road were turning on lights. His dad ran up and picked both of them up ‘cause Dean had stopped like Dad had told him not too and the fire was moving faster than it should have.

Dean didn’t remember all that much in the weeks after the fire. He was only four, afterall. But he did remember lots of people nicknaming him “hen” (he hadn’t known what that meant, not then, he’d been confused), and remembered hysterical panic whenever Sammy left his sight, and remember not saying anything until he’d realized that Sam wasn’t babbling like he used to and it was up to Dean to change that.

He doesn’t remember exactly when he learned what “hen” meant, though at twenty-six years old he could care less. He’d grown up with that word to define his every motion. _ Everything _was for Sammy. If that made him act more like an omega than an unpresented in-between typically does that didn’t matter. Only Sammy mattered. Sammy and Dad, but mostly Sammy. Mom had told him twenty-two years ago that it was his job to look after Sammy, and it was.

~~~

Sam had knocked Dean to the floor when Dean had broken into his apartment (he hadn’t meant to scare him, but it was good to test out if Sam was still being cautious).

“Dean?”

Dean couldn’t help himself, holding tight to Sam’s arms, instinctively going to brush his cheek against Sam’s.

Sam leaned down, not initiating but allowing, accepting, encouraging--

“Sam?”

Dean rocked back, one of his arms tightening in preparation to push Sam behind him, but it was just a normal girl about Sam’s age. Dean relaxed and stepped back.

“This is my girlfriend, Jess. Jess, Dean.”

“Your brother Dean?”

Dean made some sort of quip, ignoring the way his mouth wanted to tug down at realizing Sam was in a serious enough relationship to be living with this beta woman and hadn’t _ told him _. Not that they had been keeping up contact, but...but still.

~~~

Dean did something he hadn’t done in a long time: panicked.

Constance’s ghost was _ on top of his little brother _ . Sam wasn’t breathing right and he was straining against the spirit. She was pulling back from a kiss--or what looked like one--and Dean saw red. How _ dare she _, how could he be letting this happen to Sammy, when he knew exactly how this felt-no, he wasn’t thinking about that right now he needed to get her off him-

He shot at her like a dumbass, but at least she was distracted enough for Sam to drive into the house and for her to be confronted by her children. He tried not to think about what the alternative might have been.

“What were you thinking, shooting at a spirit?” Sam ribbed.

Dean’s stomach dropped for just a second, Sam didn’t know didn’t even feel like something was wrong- “Saved your ass, didn’t I?”

~~~

It wasn’t until Dean was pulling up to Sam’s apartment that he finally decided he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I-”

Dean ignored whatever Sam was about to say, pulling him in by his collar to firmly press their cheeks together, pressing hard to properly leave his scent. Sam reciprocated automatically (probably not willingly, but at this point Dean could give less of a fuck). Dean brushed his wrists down Sam’s jackets, leaving as much of his presence behind as he could. No one said he wasn’t a possessive bastard.

“I’m not a little kid, Dean,” Sam protested, but he was content and far, far from being stressed at the situation.

“And I’m not a gangly fifteen year old anymore, either. Doesn’t change a thing,” Dean grumbled. He acquiesced his scent-marking, but only after another brush of their cheeks. He felt...okay, sort of. Dad wasn’t here so that wasn’t optimal but it hadn’t been too long since they’d been near each other. Now that he’d reaffirmed Sam’s packbond everything felt like it might turn out alright. He just needed to go to those coordinates and find their father.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Sam said with an odd hesitance.

“I won’t if you’ll call once in awhile,” Dean bargained with a grin. “Take care of yourself Sammy.”


	2. Wendigo

“Thinking what I’m thinking?” Dean asked, the Wendigo’s scream shooting fear into his chest. 

“I think so,” Sam responded.

Dean nodded, knowing that at least Sam wouldn’t come charging after him (like he’d done one too many times when he was newly presented and pumped up with new alpha instincts) and took off down the tunnels to act as the distraction. As the bait.

All through their childhood that’s how’d it gone. Sam was always younger, made less sense for him to do it. Then he was the same age Dean had been when he’d first started being the distraction but he wasn’t as good a shot, or he hadn’t picked up enough training, or it  _ just made more sense for Dean to do it. _

Lot of the times, when they’d have the odd run in with a hunter that wasn’t Bobby or Caleb or Father Jim, they showed surprise that Dean was the one John was sending in for bait.

“Ain’t typical to see a ‘mega runnin’ ‘round as a hunter.”

“I figured you’d be more careful with him.”

“You crazy, sending a little kid omega in front of a spirit like that.”

Sammy hadn’t gone on enough hunts to realize how “wrong” it felt, until after he’d presented. Acted like a complete moron as teenage alphas are prone to do, only it lead to all three of their lives being on the line. Dean had to put his foot down.

He didn’t mind being bait. Bristled when the other hunters made comments. He made the most sense--his dad could get around behind the thing, and it kept Sam safe. He’d tear a werewolf apart with his bare hands and teeth before he’d send Sam out in front of one.

Dean could feel Haley and Tommy looking at him like he was crazy, but the threat of their lives was enough to cause them to keep moving.

Good, at least he’d be able to die peacefully knowing Sammy was getting them out, if things got out of hand.


	3. Dead in the Water

“You think I don’t want to find Dad just as much as you do?”

“Yeah, I know you-”

“‘Cause I’ve been with him every single day for the past two years, while you’ve been off at college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then we’re going to kill everything bad between here and there.”

It almost looks like Sam was about to protest, but with a momentary distraction of that  _ heavenly omega waitress _ he just huffed and acquiesced. “Okay.”

Dean tried to act as if the bitterness that had just set in had gone. It hadn’t. 

All he could think was how Dean was there when Sam left, there for Dad when it was  _ just _ the two of them. Two couldn’t even make up a proper pack, and while Sam was technically still a member it just wasn’t quite right. There was a gaping hole where the pack alpha should be, even if Sam had been chafing for the very reason of being on the bottom of the pack. 

It happened to many packs, when the younger siblings were alphas and at the bottom of the pecking order. But usually the packs weren’t as small as the Winchester’s. Dean was left to fill in the gaps, even though that shouldn’t be the omega’s job, it was the betas--but John wasn’t just a beta, he was their father and an elder as such. Dean needed to pick up the slack and it pissed him off that Sam had just seemingly not thought of that.

~~~

Dean immediately sympathizes with the kid, so like Sam at that age, so like  _ him- _

He just sat there, coloring quietly. Sam used to get like that, when he got annoyed that no one was telling him things, or Dad left, or they had to move...Dean had done the same after their mother died. Just sat there next to Sammy and didn’t say a word to no one.

~~~

“My children dying, it’s worse than death,” Carlton told them and Dean thought he knew what he meant. How many times had Sam gotten hurt, and for a few heart wrenching moments Dean couldn’t even breath for the fear? It had sent him into a full on nesting, once. It was a good thing that Sam had only scraped up his knees and bruised his ribs because Dean had snarled at even John for a good couple of days.

~~~

“Who are you, and what have you done to my brother?” Sam quipped.

Dean wanted to shake him.  _ What, it was really so unthinkable that he could be nice to a kid? Where had Sam been for their entire childhood? _

“Shuddup,” he grumbled instead, pushing down that tiny little ache shoved deep down in his heart. That stupid desire that was  _ ‘normal,’  _ to settle down with a set of pups. To be normal, for once. To have a mate, and a proper pack that was more than just him and Sammy and Dad--and even then, it had only been around after Sam had presented. Dean just wanted-he wanted-

He didn’t know what he wanted.


	4. Chapter 4

“I-I kind of have this problem with…

“Flying?” Sam finished.

“It’s never really been an issue until now,” Dean tried to defend, even though his heart was pounding in his throat.

“You’re joking, right?” And great, that was concern in Sam’s voice. At any other point in time, Dean would hate it, but right now he was doing everything he could not to completely loose it.

“Do I look like I’m joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?” Obviously, with security the way it was, it was easier to transport necessary materials for hunting without airport security, and Dean loved the Impala to pieces, but how many hours had he needlessly spent behind the wheel, even if it was just to meet up with Bobby or Pastor Jim or Caleb?

“Alright, I’ll go.”

And if Dean wasn’t panicking before he sure as hell was now. “ _ What? _ ”

“I’ll do this one on my own.”

“What are you nuts? You said it yourself, the plane’s gonna crash!”

“Dean, we can do this together or I can do this one on my own I’m not seeing a third option here.”

And that behavior was what Dean  _ hadn’t _ missed about Sam going off to college. That infuriating, noble,  _ dumb alpha shit _ .

He went on the plane. He had to go on the plane.

Sam was a fucking asshole, unsurprisingly. He thought it was funny--a novelty to see his big brother so obviously scared of something. It was honestly all Dean could do not to bury his head under his jacket and lean into Sam like some sort of damsel in distress.


	5. Bloody Mary

Dean shook Sam awake the moment his breath picked up.

“I take I was having a nightmare,” Sam said after glancing around the perimeter of the Impala.

“Yeah, another one.”

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.”

“You know, sooner or later we’re going to have to talk about this,” Dean pointed out. Not that he wanted to. Talking about feelings and shit weren’t exactly his comfort zone, but he’d do it for Sam. 

Used to be, Sam would come up to him asking for help with the nightmares. But ever since he got it in that big head of his that he needed to be tough and grown...well, it was harder. Dean had to instigate the conversations that centered around Sam, and given how uncomfortable he had been whenever Dean tried broaching the subject they’d both been putting the conversation off.

~~~

  
  


“Why’d you let me fall asleep?”

Dean looked at him from where he was crunched into the shitty armchair, sleepless from the long night. He’d gotten to nap in the afternoon, so when he’d woken to Sam dozing away at the bed next to him he’d self-appointed himself to continue researching. “Cause I’m an awesome brother. What’d you dream about.”

“Lollipops and candy canes.”

“Yeah, for sure.” More deflection, then, not uncommon or even unexpected, but...frustrating. 

~~~

“This is about Jessica, isn’t it? You think that you’re dirty little secret is that you killed her somehow?” 

Sam just sat there, jaw working as he fought tears--and Dean knew that was what he was doing, what both of them had been doing since they learned what a weakness it was.

“Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares-calling her name out, in the middle of the night. It’s going to kill you!”

Dean knew it would kill Sam. Knew it, even though he’d never let himself care about anyone like that, not since the fire. He already loved Dad, and Sam, so that couldn’t be helped but he’d never let himself get so wrapped up in someone that they could destroy him.

Not like their father had been destroyed by their mother.

“Now listen to me, it wasn’t your fault. If you want to blame something, then blame the thing that killed her! Or take a swing at me, I’m the one who dragged you away from her in the first place!”

“I don’t blame you.”

“Well you shouldn’t blame yourself. Cause there’s  _ nothing  _ you could’ve done.”

“I could’ve warned her.” And his voice was so even, so blank. He’d shut himself up in that big stupid head of his and he wasn’t going to let anyone in.

“About what? You didn’t know it was going to happen! And besides, all of this isn’t a secret. I know all about it, it’s not going to work on Mary, anyway.”

“No you don’t.”

Dean’s stomach dropped. There was something else to all this? “I don’t what?”

“You don’t know all about it. I haven’t told you everything.”

“What are you talking about?” Dean’s head was filled with everything--thinking the worst, hoping for the best. Well, the best for Sammy. Didn’t matter much what happened with Jess, she was gone.

“Well, it wouldn’t really be a secret if I told you about it.”

Dean nearly started yelling. “No. I don’t like it.”

“Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about. And you know what, who knows how many more people are going to die after that. Now, we’re doing this. You’ve  _ got  _ to let me do this.”

Dean almost laughed, for a hysterical second. Even when Sam was gearing up to do something as stupid as make himself the bait--Dean had enough nasty secrets of his own, but this was the only way Sam was thinking of for dealing with the trauma, and Dean was going to have to let him--he was still asking permission.

~~~

Dean broke the mirror and nearly fell to his knees in the shattered glass, taking Sam’s head in his hands. Blood ran from his eyes like tears and for a moment-but, no, he was breathing and his eyes still moved sluggishly about.

“Sammy, Sammy-”

“It’s Sam.”

Dean still didn’t let go, cradling his brother’s face. He had to be  _ sure _ that he was alright. “God, are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

Dean looked back to the broken mirror and suddenly realized they were in the middle of a mirror shop and he had no guarantee that the ghost was gone. “C’mon, c’mon,” he urged as he pulled Sam to his feet. Sam protested, clearly not as fine as he claimed, but hey needed to  _ go _ .

He pushed himself under Sam’s arm and started to pull him out. Just like old times, only this time they didn’t have Dad there to warn them when Mary crawled out of the broken frame. Their warning came when their eyes began to bleed.

The pain was excruciating, dropping them both to the ground. Amidst his agony, Dean tried to put himself in front of Sammy, between him and the ghost. At the back of his throat, a low growl was building. _ Not appropriate to let the enemy know his caste, _ a voice that sounded like John reminded, but Dean couldn’t focus enough to stop it. Not when he was trying to get to a mirror all while worrying if Sammy would make it through the second round.

The mirror worked and the ghost was banished and Sammy was alright. Dean forced the growl down before Sam could comment, not that he would. That was what Dad used to be there for.

~~~

“Look, you’re my brother, and I’d die for you, but there’s some things I need to keep to myself.”

Little shit, smirking and everything. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that something worse was going on, especially with the way his scent spiked only moments later with some bitter twist of emotions, but he’d let it go. For now.


End file.
